how the days used to be
by k o u s e n
Summary: [ axel . selphie ] you're a bit out of place, a little girl in high waters. [welcome back?]


**& how the days used to be;**

**& :**

On the rooftop, they dance.

**&**

Once upon a time, she went to Neverland. That was a long time ago, of course, but it's part of who she is and that little fact is pretty important to everyone who peeks in on the details of her life. She didn't meet The Lost Boys because they didn't exist – not then; maybe now, but not then, when she was there, pushing bangs out of her face and smiling like it was meant to be.

It was never meant to be.

**&**

"Don't," He says. "Don't be stupid. Don't jump."

**&**

In Neverland, she falls in love, and everything goes downhill from there.

But, first, let's back up.

Neverland is made of simple things and paper dreams and everything leads to something new. There are lots of girls there with her, smiling and giggling and gossiping and drawing hearts in lipstick on their arms because they have nothing better to do. Everything is a little bit ripped at the seams, but no one notices because here is better than _there_.

She meets him on her fourth day there, and they get along great because sunlight and fire are one in the same.

**&**

"I hate you," She says. He watches from behind her; watches as she moves forward, steps closer to the edge, steps closer to the downfall of everything. "I don't love you anymore," She lies. He can hear it, the way she breathes, the way she curls her fingers against her palm and the way she bites her lip as the words slip out.

She says, "I don't want this anymore."

**&**

"Close your eyes and listen," He tells her the first time, when they're lying tangled together under the stars, staring, watching.

She does as she's told. Her lids slip closed and she slows her breathing, holds her breath and strains her ears, leans forward, away from the intrusion of his heartbeat against her skin. "It's not – " She murmurs. "I don't hear it." His hand curls against her wrist.

"You hear everything," He says slowly. "You just won't accept it."

She jerks in his grip and her eyes open, but she doesn't move away. The heat of him should be calming, but her heart beats faster. His hand slides up her hip and steadies her. She lets out a breath and it hovers over them, like a blanket, suffocating.

"You sleep hard, dream fast," He says. "And then: nothing."

**&**

His hands gripping her arms, he whispers, "Which of us will survive the other?" against her neck.

**&**

"Sometimes," He tells her when they meet for the first time, "You should just stay under covers, and stay there, at least for a while."

She waits for an explanation, some sort of hidden meaning behind the words.

All he offers is, "You should try saying no once in a while."

**&**

Her feet near the edge, the wind blowing her dress up around her thighs, he stands behind her and thinks of laughing. Below, far below near the concrete and the cars and the sirens, there are flashing lights and fireworks, in her eyes. He cocks his hip with his hands in his pockets, the wind blowing his tie, and he thinks of leaving without it next time. She sobs into her cupped hands and sways on her feet.

"You're a bit out of place," He smirks, smug. "A little girl in high waters."

She screams into the air around them and it echoes, out and out and out, and then turns and comes spiraling back at them, once, twice. Her makeup is smudged, her hair losing its curl. Her nail polish is chipped, but her dress is still perfect.

He lights a cigarette.

**&**

"Get on your knees and beg," He says, breathless.

She grins up at him. (and, someday, they'll dance.)

**&**

"You'll never live this down," He says, like it's some kind of joke. She holds her arms out for balance as she steps up onto the concrete edge.

"I won't be here for you to joke about," She says thickly. She curls her fingers against her palm until her nails cut into skin, searing pain that makes her release her grip, just a little. She tries to remember how many buttons were in the elevator, how many windows they passed on their way up.

"It seems like you've done this before," He remarks. The top three buttons of his shirt are undone, open, revealing her bruises, her marks, and above them: his knowing smirk, watching all along.

"Shut the hell up," She hisses. He laughs.

**&**

She gets tired, sometimes, of Neverland. She gets tired of seeing his face, hearing his voice and his laugh, and feeling his smirk follow her around. She gets tired of everything smelling like summer and feeling like home. The punishment, she thinks, should equal the crime, but she hasn't done anything wrong, so it just doesn't make sense anymore.

**&**

He says, "I don't know how things went wrong with you."

She doesn't look at him when she says, "It was all your fault."

**&**

"Consider yourself perfect," He tells her.

For once, she doesn't take his advice.

**&**

She thinks about jumping.

**& :**

if you want to cuss me out in a review,  
I'll accept everything you say and probably  
agree with you on most thing.


End file.
